Sunday, June 7, 2015


Out on the grassy cliffs that over look the boundless sea, sits Maggie, the salt-saturated winds blowing her long, auburn hair back behind her as she faces the crashing waters defiantly.

In her hands she holds a study fiddle and bow, on which she plays her lively song.

She plays it over and over again, her pretty features set in a stern gaze of concentration as her fingers move deftly over the strings and her right arm works the bow across them wildly.

The tune travels over the high cliffs and out across the churning waters, seeking out its intended audience.

Each day since her lover had set out on his journey with his ship and crew to find their fortune on the high seas, Maggie has come out to call him back to her with her passionate song. Each evening, her fingers no longer able to move for the cold sea winds, she makes her way home to her lonely stone house which sits, much like herself, solitarily out on the barren Moors.

Once day break comes, she heads out again with her instrument to the wooden chair that waits for her out on the cliff's edge.

On this particularly grey and miserable day, the dark clouds overhead threatening to burst with rain and thunder, she plays her song and far off in the horizon, Maggie sees the outline of a ship growing larger.

The closer it comes, the more fervently she plays, as if her playing was drawing the craft toward her. Indeed, the multi-sailed ship seemingly speeds directly to her place atop the cliffs.

Though no place for the ship to land or ever moor itself is anywhere near by, it continues to steam full ahead, aimed directly for the steep cliff face; Maggie's fiddle still playing frantically, to the point it seems ready to burst into flames.

Until, in a deafening crash, the ship smashes itself upon the sheer cliffs, its wooden hull exploding into millions of splinters while its crew is flung violently to the be dashed upon the craggy rocks below where Maggie looks on.

Breathing heavily, her song finally silent and her fiddle and bow still held tightly at her sides, she sands and watches with crazed eyes as the carnage of the shipwreck sinks quickly into the depths.

Getting a glimpse of the name painted across the stern of the sinking vessel, she knows it is not her lover's, yet she sniffs with satisfaction at her day's work.

One day, she would bring his ship back to her, and her lonely heart would have its revenge upon the high-reaching cliffs.

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